Aftershock
by Geisha-san
Summary: Padawan learner Koyav'ar was stationed with her Master on Cato Neimoidia when it happened-Order 66. The men she had befriended were suddenly slaughtering her brothers and sisters all over the galaxy. Her Master killed, she is forced to flee to exile on strange planets, letting her life as Padawan die. Two men still search for her, however-one seeking forgiveness, the other blood.
1. Felt Like Betrayal

Hello, welcome to my first story. As warned in the summary, this is an OC story - although many canon characters will appear in it. The rating is bound to change, as this story will go to some very dark and gritty places. I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and even if you didn't, please leave me a review! Thank you.

* * *

The skies of Cato Neimoidia were so densely packed with fog it was difficult to tell who was friendly and who was an enemy. Fighters darted around each other and the tall, sky-scraping mountains of the planet, shooting if they were fortunate enough to get a good sighting on the other for more than a moment. Most of the hits today were exactly that – lucky. Master Plo had already told off three men for shooting blind into the dense fog. Now, the fleet flew around the seven or eight central mountains of the capital cities, trying to get lucky.

Koyav'ar cursed as she swung her fighter hard right, in order to avoid the mountain that had suddenly sprung up in front of her. The Twi'lek Padawan was not a very good pilot – she would much rather have a solid stance on the ground than this nauseating spin through the air. _The fog's not helping, or the sounds this clunker's making. _Gritting her teeth, she brought the fighter back around and steadied it.

Commander Wolffe was on the ground with a battalion now, taking charge of clearing the bridge cities and setting up temporary medical stations. Although she had already tried to convince Master Plo to let her stay, he had refused to even hear of it. "You must learn to lead men, my Padawan. And that includes battles in the air."

She had a good view of three of their own fighters, who were busy dogging an enemy around and around a mountain, and Master Plo's own ship, easily taking out enemies as he used the Force to guide his shots.

"Koya, how are you holding up?" Her Master's gravely voice came through the communicator. She shook her head, and pushed her fighter up to speed.

"Splendidly, Master. You'll be happy to know I've dodged five mountains and hit one."

"Did he go down?"

"No. I hit the _mountain_." Koyav'ar noticed a Separatist fighter sneaking off to her starboard side, and moved to follow him. "I'm on a droid fighter now, though. I'll see if I can get him."

"If Commander managed to get even one clanker down, tonight I'm buying drinks for everyone." Mach's voice cut through on the comm, his voice gruff with suppressed laughter.

Koyav'ar heard the other men cheer, and she rolled her eyes. "I'll land now and save you the trouble, Mach."

"Boo. Don't be such a spoilsport. I'll buy you one too."

"Mach, enough." Captain Jag's no-nonsense gripe cut Mach's plans short, "You lot, get in formation now." Koyav'ar saw two Republic fighters turn swiftly to join the others that were forming up somewhere behind her.

Master Plo's voice came through again. "Koya, I see you now. Try to get in front of that one and lure him over here."

"Yes, Master." Speeding up, she darted in front of the enemy fighter and cut it off, forcing it to turn with her. She reached into the Force, just enough to find her Master's signature, and guided the fighter to him.

With an explosion of shrapnel and fire, Master Plo finished it off quickly. "Good. Stay with me, Koya."

"Alright." Koyav'ar was perfectly content to cover her Master's back as he checked up on the men. This fight was going surreally well, with very few losses on the Republic side and most of the enemy fleet either chased off or shot down. It was simply too easy, as if the Separatists had given up this fight early. She thumbed the well-worn controls of the fighter and wondered when they would be cleared to land.

They had been in the fight for little over two hours now. She couldn't decide which was worst, flying around trying to shoot enemies in the densest fog known to sentient beings, or simply hovering, waiting for one to come crashing through the fog. Either way, her nerves were shot and her fingers were shaking from the exertion.

"Two more have joined in, sir. Approaching from the west." Captain Jag's no-nonsense voice scratched through the comms.

"Descending or taking off?"

"Descending from the station just out of the atmosphere. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Other than those two, the most I can see are four more. It won't take long now."

Captain Jag shared none of the arrogance that his brothers typically had during such an easy fight. Koyav'ar remembered Mach telling her that Jag had once gotten suspended from duty for using death sticks. While it had only been for a month, Jag had gotten rid of the addiction and sworn he would break the jaw of anyone who ever mentioned the incident again.

"Koya?"

She jumped a little, rocking the fighter with the sudden movement. "Yes, Master?"

"Head around the mountain off to the west and take care of the two fighters approaching from that direction."

"Wonderful." She gritted her teeth together and started towards the mountain.

Master Plo easily sensed his student's apprehension. "You'll be fine, Koyav'ar. All it takes is a bit of practice with these fighters."

The two enemy fighters were lurking around each other, as if they were as nervous to fly as she was. Four beams of light shot through the thick fog, which were easily avoided. They were docked to the mountaintop, making them literal sitting ducks, even for her inexperienced hands.

Commander Wolffe contacted Master Plo as Koya got into position. Since it was mostly confirming orders had been followed, Koya did not pay much attention. Against the ever-fluctuating background and the fluid mountains of Cato Neomoidia, the inorganic metal shapes stood out sharply. They were unnatural – they did not belong.

Koya steadied herself and aimed the guns. As she did so, however, a sharp prick of fear suddenly unnerved her. It cut through her like someone had slit open her skin, but it quickly faded. "Ugh," she murmured, rubbing her temples. Warnings like that usually left her, as well as most Jedi, with splitting headaches. "Master Plo? Did you feel that just now?"

"Yes. I was hoping you didn't."

"It felt… different than warnings usually feel, Master. Like…" Koya searched for the right word, but her Master finished the thought.

"Betrayal. I know, I sense it as well." Even though her Master had uttered the word calmly, Koya felt it was some sort of tipping point – _Master Plo is frightened of something._

That simple fact made her even more fearful that she had been before. "What do you think caused it?"

Master Plo continued, just as calmly, "I don't know, Koya. I would prepare yourself, for whatever may happen." He was silent for a moment, before adding grimly, "I want to be wrong, but this day may very well end darkly for us."

Koya shuddered violently as her Master's words sunk in. Now all parts of her being were intent on searching out, and destroying, this unnamable threat. Faint pulses, like slow heartbeats, periodically went through the Force, but none like the warning they had just experienced.

She searched the skies again. The two Separatist supply ships, which were what the two must be, were still docked against the mountainside, watching the rest of the fight serenely. Other than the two in front of her, which were quickly shot down, it was relatively peaceful. Men were circling the sky, making sure no droid fighter remained.

As Koya watched the ruined husks of the fighters burn and then collapse onto the mountain, she smiled grimly. "Mach."

"Yes, Commander?"

"You're buying at least two rounds tonight."

Even with her men cheering in the background, and congratulating her on her hits, the pit of her stomach was clenched tight with fear. The clones were feeling none of the extreme apprehension that she and her Master were going through. Nothing was wrong for them – the battle had been won easily and smoothly, with little damage to their own fleet.

The Separatist fighter appeared so suddenly in front of her, it was as if it had materialized from the fog.

_Shit._ Koya gunned her fighter away as fast as it could go, leaning hard right as she shot past the mountain. The droid fighter was so close to her that she could hear its engine as it strained to keep up with hers. "Master Plo, one's on me. It came out of nowhere, those two must've been decoys!" She threw her weight into the next sharp turn, but she could still not shake it off.

"Hold on, I'm coming."

Blaster fired sprayed from the fighter behind her. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the ominous rattle coming from her fighter, she pushed suddenly into a nosedive, all the while twisting this way and that.

"Alright Koya, I'm on his tail."

Through the small windshield, the terrain and fog of Cato Neimoidia whipped by with blinding speed. Koya could feel her Master close behind, and did her best to ignore the blaster fire that was fanning over her fighter.

A small beeping sound took her by surprise – her personal communicator that was strapped to her wrist. Frowning, she quickly pressed the activation button. "This isn't the best-"

"Koyav'ar, my dear Padawan learner. Listen to me now. The men are not on this comms channel. I am going to shoot the left wing of your fighter."

"...Master Plo?"

"Listen, Koyav'ar. Calm your mind, take comfort in the Force. Something truly terrible is just on the horizon, something concerning us as Jedi alone. If you focus, you will see it too. I will only do enough damage to force you to crash land. Aim for the bridge cities."

Koyav'ar was only dimly aware of the Separatist fighter behind her now. "Master?"

"Remember, I told you to prepare yourself for the worst. I believe I know what lies ahead of us, and it is not pleasant. Whatever may happen, know that I am very proud of you. Stay out of sight, and do _not _answer any comms unless I come to get you. Not for Wolffe, or Jag, or Mach. Only me."

Koya's voice was barely a whisper. "Yes, Master. I trust you."

"You have been a good student, Koya. I hope you will not forget me, nor the lessons I taught you." He was silent for a moment, and then added quietly. "Do not trust the clones after this."

Master Plo shut off the communicator, and then shot his Padawan's fighter down.


	2. The Order

**Aftershock**

Chapter Two

* * *

At first, Mach's voice was muddled, as if Koya was listening to him through water. It came into focus slowly, and when it snapped into clarity she was shocked to hear the amount of desperation in it. "Commander? Commander, do you read? Damnit! General, did you see where she went down?"

"I didn't. I… I can't seem to find her with the Force, either. Her signature is usually so clear…" Master Plo's voice was quiet, barely audible above the cracking of the comms system.

Her heavy, painful coughing drowned the rest of his sentence out. Smoke was rapidly filling the small cockpit, obscuring her vision and coating her lungs with an ashy residue. The fighter was on fire. The heat was almost as bad as the smoke, pushing through the thin metal of the fighter and warping it.

"Commander Wolffe, do you copy?" That was Captain Jag, she realized.

"Yessir." Koya tried to unbuckle and nearly screamed aloud when the pain shot through her hands. Although she couldn't see an inch in front of her, Koya knew immediately they were burned, and badly – if that was the worst of her injuries, she couldn't say. She could feel her hands throbbing with her every heartbeat. Gritting her teeth, she tore off the straps quickly, ignoring the pain.

"Send out a search party for Commander Koya-"

"Captain. I can't sense her anymore. She must've been killed on impact." Master Plo spoke with such intensity that it shocked the men into complete silence for a moment. All Koya could hear was the crackle of the comms on her wrist as she struggled to free herself.

"…Are you sure we shouldn't send someone out to look for her?" Mach's voice was quiet.

"Yes. My Padawan… Commander Wolffe, you must get those medical bases set up. I will look for her myself, after we are done."

Koya pushed her hands up and heaved off the heavy glass cockpit cover with the Force. The cold air of Cato Neimoidia rushed in, and for the first time today Koya was thankful for the heavy fog – it masked the smoking remnants of her fighter. She heaved herself out with an unsteady jump, and collapsed into a fit of vomiting as soon as she touched the ground.

Her lungs felt as if they were coated with fire. Clutching her stomach, Koya struggled to her feet. She looked behind her at the flaming wreckage of the fighter.

Miraculously, Koya had landed on one of the bridge cities, tearing up many of the abandoned buildings in the process. A path of destruction lay behind her, but the fog masked it well from the men in the sky. She knew that she was lucky to have hit the bridge city where she did – a clean crash landing, straight down the middle of it. Otherwise, she could've spiraled down into the abyss, and _actually_ died.

It was silent in the city. Commander Wolffe had already evacuated many of the citizens before Master Plo authorized a strike team to fly in. While the citizens were traveling up to be relocated, Master Plo, Koya, and their men had been going down to protect their home. The strong winds whipped through the empty homes and stores, moaning eerily. Only the occasional blaster shot could be heard of the dogfight above her.

Koya started to walk along the main road, keeping to the shadows of the buildings. Bright skin like hers would be a beacon, even in this dense fog. Once she was clear of the crash zone, she crouched and mustered the courage to check over her injuries.

She had been right – her hands were _extremely_ burned. Blisters filled with pus and blood covered her palms. Small fires seemed to be blazing in her blood, and it looked as if her skin had melted right off, leaving the sensitive muscles exposed. The smell that emanated from them was almost enough to make her vomit again. As she turned them over for inspection, she realized that there was no way for her to defend herself if she needed to.

Even though she had never been properly trained in the medical arts, Koya knew that she needed to clean her hands immediately. Luckily, nothing else was hurt worse – just a few cuts and bruises from the impact. _What are the chances that these buildings still have running water?_ Stumbling into an empty house, she made for the refresher and nearly jumped when cold water came out of the faucet, responding to her Force push.

She almost threw her hands in before she realized how much it would hurt to clean them. Burns were notorious to clean, because they made the body too sensitive to anything stronger than a puff of air. _I can't make a sound._ Although she wasn't exactly sure _what_ Master Plo had seen, Koya knew that she had to trust him, and hide. No help from the men either, although a soak in bacta sounded heavenly right now.

Gritting a piece of thick cloth in between her teeth, she inched her fingertips into the cold water, and chose to ignore her shaking.

Keeping her screams silent was the most difficult thing she had ever had to do.

By the end of it, she was on the floor of the refresher, completely soaked, shivering too much to focus on turning off the water. She spat out the shredded cloth in pieces, grateful that they had muffled her cries.

_The worst is over. _Koya sat on the floor of the home and bandaged them with the few pieces of sterilized cloth she had in her belt. As soon as she hooked the cloth closed, disgusting yellow and red stains started to ooze through the white material. Koya was sure that when returned to base, Nate, their medical officer, would give her one of his looks that said, "What the hell were you thinking, Commander?"

Koya decided now was the time to try to contact Master Plo, through the Force. There was no way she would risk trying to get him through comms – who knows who could be listening?

_Master?_ She pushed her mind as far as she could, trying to pinpoint her Master's location. After a few minutes of silence, she suddenly felt his familiar signature.

_Koya. I am glad to see you are all right._

_Master Plo, what is going on? Why was that necessary?_

_It is difficult to explain now, young one. But… I fear the days of our Order are quickly approaching their end._ Even with his strangexs answer, Koya still felt comforted by his Force presence.

…_That's a rather strong statement to make, Master._

_Perhaps it is the fears of an old, tired, Jedi, Koya. I can see you – I'm flying directly above you. Conceal yourself better. Were you injured during the landing?_

She frowned as he changed of subject. _My hands were burned, but that's all. I'm fine. You know, you're a pretty good actor. You have them fooled – they really think I'm dead._

_Good. That will buy you some time._

A feeling like a tidal wave suddenly hit her, throwing her to the ground in its force. She knew in an instant what her Master had been so afraid of. Images, terrible images filled her head – a number, some sort of signal, had been uttered, the doors of hell breaking down. Younglings being butchered, clones killing their Jedi Generals, a tall man marching into the Temple at the head of a squadron...

_No!_

She watched in horror as all of the Republic fighters suddenly slowed, and got into formation _behind_ Master Plo, every last gun aiming for… Gasping, she reached out for her Master in a panic.

But it was too late.

_Koya! RUN- _

She felt her connection to her Master shatter as Captain Jag personally shot the Jedi down. It spiraled out of control, hitting a mountain and exploding into fiery shrapnel. Black smoke drifted from the impact point, and the Force was silent.

There was nothing to quiet her screams this time.


	3. What Now?

Sorry this was a week late - it was a very difficult chapter to figure out. I knew some scenes and dialogues I wanted to happen, but it was a bit of a struggle to fit them together. This chapter might be re-done in the future. :) Please leave a review!

**Aftershock**

Chapter Three**  
**

* * *

Commander Wolffe entered the mess hall, and immediately one hundred and seven of his brothers stood to attention. The mess was the only place on the base large enough to fit all of the remaining troopers, including the ones of Captain Jag's squadron. Looking at a sea of his own face, Commander Wolffe noticed for the first time how _empty_ it felt. The same face, the same barely contained emotions – whether it was fear, sadness, or confusion– repeated one hundred and seven times.

It was easy to see the question on every man's face. _What now?_ Now that the Jedi had been eradicated like some horrible virus, the clone livelihood was gone. Destroyed in an instant – the Separatists were truly fighting against the Jedi, not the clones, who had merely been tools of war. So all clones were useless now. And there was that strange thought that Wolffe knew automatically he shouldn't be having – _why _did they have to die? What did they do to deserve betrayal in their last moments?

Wolffe couldn't help but feel glad he had not been the one to kill either General Plo Koon or Koya – and even more grateful that she had been killed before the order was issued. It was a merciful death, even though the news had shaken him to the core. He had been stationed on the bridge, directing the distribution of supplies and medical tents when the transmission came through –

_Commander Koya has been shot down. No response. Killed on impact. Do not search for remains._

And that was it. Clean, merciful, quick. The Padawan that had fought alongside him, learned, and grown up beside him was gone.

He knew how much Koya had hated to fly. Once he had walked into her rooms - to deliver a message - and found her curled up in a tight ball on the bed, shaking so hard she couldn't speak. He'd stayed with her until she had calmed down, sitting next to her and talking to her gently for several hours. It had felt like the right thing to do.

Commander Wolffe sighed and began. "With the Jedi gone, this war is over. I have received a transmission from the Emperor, describing the situation." He set the comm down and played the message.

A tall figure, hunched and horribly disfigured, began by congratulating them on countless, laudable services to the Empire – as the Republic had apparently died with the Jedi. "Most notably, the extermination of the traitorous Jedi has secured your positions in the new army of the Empire. Now, you are no longer clones. You are stormtroopers – that is, if you wish. I am giving every clone the chance to choose between more glorious services for the Empire or to retire to a quiet life. The nearest recruiting station to this base is in the Pyria system, on the planet Borleias. If you intend to continue your remarkable service for the Empire, you are free to leave at once to join. Otherwise, all clones that wish it are dismissed from service, with the highest honors."

There was silence in the mess. Wolffe looked from face to face, and all he could see was disbelief. It was Mach who broke the silence first. "That's… that's it? What are we supposed to do?" One hundred voices broke out in confusion, voicing the same worries: no money, no livelihood, _no home._

They had been discarded shockingly fast. It was all too clear that the new Empire did not give a damn about any of them.

Wolffe raised his hand, and immediately the silence was back. Now it was oppressive and accusing, and more than a little fearful. His brothers needed reassurance, but Wolffe didn't know how to comfort them. All he could say was, "We have two days to decide whether or not to join the stormtrooper legions. Dismissed."

All he wanted to do was go back to his room to think over his own decision, but Captain Jag and Mach were in the middle of a heated debate that blocked his way. Wolffe stood to the side and waited. The captain looked smug, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"I just know Koya could've survived that crash, sir. I just know it." Mach's voice was full of desperation. "You have to believe me! She's not dead."

Jag sneered at him. "What evidence of that do you have, rookie? She hit that bridge too hard – I flew over the wreckage myself. It tore up the land pretty damn well. If she had survived…" A strange look passed over Jag's face, as if he had suddenly smelled something foul. Mach, oblivious, continued.

"If anything, we should at least send some men to search the area."

"Yes, yes… because if she _isn't_ dead, we would have to make sure to fix that." A sinister look of bloodlust had crept into Jag's face, sending a chill up Wolffe's spine. Something had never been quite right with Jag – he had always been too eager to kill, even if the mission didn't require it.

Mach's face fell even as his voice remained hopeful. "Actually, sir, the order clearly stated that Padawans were to be brought to Coruscant for interrogation…"

With an impatient wave of his hand, Jag dismissed Mach. "I'll take a group to the wreck site to do a double check. And if she's not dead…" It was at that moment Jag finally noticed Wolffe standing next to him.

"Commander! Are we absolutely certain that the Padawan was killed on impact? I'm not certain she was." Jag continued slowly, "I'll gladly do the honor myself."

Wolffe never felt like punching him more. His eyes narrowed. "Then you'd best get a search team down there now, Captain." Jag turned to leave, but stopped as Wolffe added menacingly, "Jag, I hope for your sake she _was_ killed on impact." The Captain gave no reaction other than to smile reassuringly, and left.

Mach and Wolffe watched Jag leave with his search team, all five armed to the teeth. Now that the other two were certain Koya was still alive, Wolffe felt an unwanted flicker of hope appear in his mind. _If she is alive, I need to find her, and figure out some way to get her off of this planet without that bastard finding out about it. She doesn't deserve any of this._

It was empty in the mess now, but the message hadn't turned off yet. It had automatically switched to a radio station were a bored man was listing the dead Jedi in a monotonous voice. As if no one really cared that their own men had slaughtered them, without a second thought.

"The Jedi Master Ki-Adi Mundi, dead. The Jedi Master Mace Windu, dead. The Jedi Master Kit Fisto, dead. The Jedi Master Saesee Tin, dead. The Jedi Master…"

The radio was being broadcasted all over the station, so all of the troopers could hear it. As Wolffe walked back to his rooms, the voice echoed in the silent hallways. He thought, not for the last time that day, _why?_


	4. Rats in the Streets

**Aftershock**

Chapter Four

* * *

It had started to rain.

Koya was fine with that, as it gave her more cover and some small relief for her hands and arms. Whenever the fire started to burn she turned them up to the sky for a few moments, always moving. She had picked up an old cloak lying in the abandoned home that hid her bright skin well and made it easy for her to move – which was a good thing, because she was going back to the base.

_It's for the bacta. I just need to get to the medical bay and get some bacta. _After almost two years of working with the clones, Koya knew that scars were an excellent and easy way to identify someone. If, by some miracle, she managed to slip off of the planet alive and avoid other troopers, burn scars on her hands would make her too easy of a target. Not that she was already inconspicuous. _Lethan Twi'lek female, black eyes, burns on both hands._ As Koya slipped through the shadows of the streets to the now-intimidating base, she smiled grimly at the description. _I would be easy prey._

Koya knew the layout of the base by heart – centralized in the location was the command center, where she and her Master used to stand for hours in Council meetings. Surrounding it, were the barracks, mess, and medical bay, all attached by two wide corridors. They formed a ring around the artillery and fighters. The base was rather small, fitting entirely on the widest part of a bridge-city, two bridges over.

However, since Cato Neimoidia was the mid-way point of many Republic routes and watches in the Outer Rim, many wounded clones were to be dropped off here for medical attention. Most of the bridge would be made up of these temporary medical tents – and likely empty. Koya couldn't imagine that priority one belonged to saving wounded men, as that honor probably seem to be killing the Jedi.

She still wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but her gut had been churning since Jag killed Master Plo. Something was wrong with the Force. It felt like it was being torn apart, and she could feel every single rip like it was happening to her. When she closed her eyes or stopped quickly for a breath, Koya could hear the screams of hundreds of Jedi echoing in her mind.

And something had changed with the clones, too. Once their signatures were friendly, calm and eager. Now they were like a bloodthirsty pack of gutkurrs, mindlessly searching to kill, even though they had been friends… Even Jag – he had only recently joined Master Plo's fleet but Koya had thought she had finally cracked his strange demeanor.

_But Mach and Commander Wolffe… they would help me… wouldn't they?_

A loud whirring sound broke her out of her thoughts, and she quickly ducked into a building. She peered out of the broken glass of the window, and her heart stopped when she saw the five bikes speed past – all of them carrying clones, led by Captain Jag.

_Fuck. They're looking for my body – to confirm I'm dead – they're going where I crashed_._ Oh, it won't take long for them to realize my body is not there._ Her thoughts were deadly calm as she watched the men come down the road.

She slid as quietly as she could down the wall, barely breathing. They were so close that if they had a life form scanner going, Jag would be through the door before she had a chance to run. All she could hear over her own heartbeat was the faded sound of the bikes. She dared not look out of the window again. A tiny part of her, though, wanted to see what would happen if she deliberately stepped out to be found. _Why are you hunting me?_ She wanted to scream at them, to force them out of their helmets and see their emotions as they crept in to kill her. _I want to see your face as you murder me._

The sound faded, and the clock started to tick. She ran.

* * *

Captain Jag could see the smoking ruins clearly through the rain, which was starting to get heavier as the day turned to night. The force from the impact had completely crushed the nose of the fighter and the wings were both broken off. Small fires, dampened by the rain, still went on feebly in the engines. It was a burning disaster, which should have easily killed any pilot – unless that pilot was a Jedi.

"Look, sir, the cover was pushed off." The man to Jag's right pointed, and the bikes all stopped a few meters away from the wreck. Even though they outnumbered the Padawan five to one, they all knew just how deadly one lightsaber could be. Jag wasn't worried. He knew too much about the Jedi lifestyle to be worried. The Padawan might try to defend herself, but she wouldn't be able to kill them.

"Weapons ready." Jag raised his hand and the clicks of five guns quickly followed.

"Set to stun, sir?"

The Captain snorted. "Get your head out of the clouds, rookie. We shoot to kill." He started to walk forward slowly, gun raised and scanning the area. The smell of melting metal was a sharp, sulfuric one. Jag called back to one of the men, "Scan the surrounding area, in a hundred meter radius." As they scanned, Jag climbed the wreckage and peered into the cockpit.

Padawan Koya was not in it.

Jag could feel anger pulsing through his veins. He should have shot the wreckage after getting rid of the Master. Now they had a rogue Jedi on the loose. He spat out, "She's not here." Peering closely at the seat, Jag tried to piece together just where this rat had run.

The cover had been pushed off, cracked towards the nose. It had not been released manually – the controls were completely destroyed. A hinge was cracked out of place, which meant she had used the Force. She was on the run, likely injured – the cockpit smelled of blood as well as gas fumes, and he could see it on the torn straps as well.

"Sir, there is no sign of her."

"Search the area, then! The alleys, buildings, streets - We have to find either her or the body." He looked up and pushed his hands up, trying to retrace her steps. The straps were undone at the buckles, but they were covered in darkened blood. He crept down the nose of the fighter, trying to imagine where she would have landed.

Jag frowned. There was a lot of it, even though the rain had worked most of the blood away by now. He could feel the pieces starting to come together, agonizingly slowly but surely.

"Sir!" A man came out of a worn house that looked like it had taken much of the damage from the Padawan's crash. "This house's refresher has water running, and there's some blood around the edges…" The insane look on Jag's face quickly silenced the trooper.

The Captain cursed loudly and jammed his helmet on his head. "She's gone back to the base to get medical supplies! Back on your bikes _now_! We've got a rat to catch!"


End file.
